Witchbound Villain: Infinite Loop

In the afternoon, Landevale arrived with more carriages. They were more comfortable than the Wilderwood family's discreet carriages.

Now that the three of them wanted to go to Inkia, someone - or in this case, two - had to cover for them. Burn said that he wanted to care for his ill wife, after all.

"This is more effective than normal disguise magic. Please wear them all the time," Morgan handed two rings, one for each for Landevale and Galahad.

The two slid them on and turned to each other, noticing nothing changed.

Curiously, Landevale inquired, "And what exactly are these for, Your Majesty?"

Yvain chimed in, marveling, "Whoa! You two are spitting images of Master and His Majesty!" Turning to Morgan, he added, "Maybe it's about time you gave me some enchantment lessons, Master."

With comical disbelief, Landevale stuttered, "Wait, we look like... you?!"

Their confusion lifted as Morgan revealed a mirror in front of them.

Landevale's jaw dropped in disbelief as she beheld her reflection. She was now impossibly beautiful, a mirror image of the woman before her. Similarly, Galahad appeared as a perfect match of Burn.

Morgan smiled. "To the rest of the world, you'll be me and Caliburn. But fear not, with these rings on, you'll always recognize your own selves. Wouldn't want any identity mix-ups now, would we?"

“We have quite the similar build, but seeing you look exactly like me now is kinda…” Burn muttered at Galahad.

“I will take that as a compliment, Sir,” Galahad smiled, sighing helplessly.

“The word I was looking for is charming. My face on you is obviously charming,” Burn nodded in contentment.

“Oh my stars—” Landevale exclaimed, clutching her cheeks dramatically as she studied her reflection. Along with Burn and Galahad, she shared Morgan's height and figure. Usually, it was just Landevale's red, fiery locks and toned physique that set her apart. But now, even her physique matched Morgan.

“How long will Your Majesty be gone?” Galahad asked.

“As long as needed. You can report to me once in a while. Also, I’m expecting a guest. Immediately call me when they come looking,” Burn said.

“Yes, sir,” Galahad nodded respectfully.

“Fix that respectful attitude. I don’t want you to use my face like that.”

“Noted, sir.”

Landevale and Galahad left with Dirk, and Finn’s family back to the Soulnaught capital. Meanwhile, Burn, Morgan, and Yvain, with Finn, stayed to continue their preparation.

“We’re done creating our cover; now we should somehow change our appearance too,” Burn said.

“Blonde!” Morgan suddenly exclaimed.

“What?” Burn creased his eyebrows. “Who?”

“You,” she conjured his hair to be blonde without him needing to say more.

“Doesn't this defeat the purpose of being discreet?” Finn asked when he saw Burn’s flashy blonde appearance. It was weird that a slight hair color change could transform someone so menacing to be so… godly.

It simply added warmth to his cold and sharp appearance.

But Burn didn’t mind. Being flashy wasn’t bad for a disguise. In certain cases, that could even be advantageous. Not to mention how Morgan liked this appearance of him so much that her eyes shot sparkles and glitters at him.

“Waah…” Yvain forgot to close his mouth. Even his eyes looked up in wonder at him. Morgan rubbed his head, and he also blondified, but the effect made everyone a bit surprised.

“Cute! Oh my God, so adorable!” Morgan gasped.

Yvain looked younger than his age, but even more now.

“You’re such a baby, Ain~!” Morgan hugged the boy after an attack of cuteness aggression, saying, “Ohh, careful ladies, my boy’s out to get y’all!”

“Should we change your eye color too? What color do you want?” Morgan asked Yvain.

“I want blue!”

Burn didn't know they would be this excited about their little trip. Some days had passed since he returned to the past, and he had talked about quite a lot of things with Morgan.

No, not their past, not their secrets either, just things they wanted to talk about. Silly little things like their favorite foods or their little wishes and dreams.

When Morgan told him about her worries for Yvain too, it was on the topic of her own dreams. She was an immortal, with lots of responsibilities and a sense of justice. Although her methods could be crazy and chaotic at times, she actually wanted simple things in life.

The complete opposite of him.

She wanted a simple house on the outskirts of a small town. She wanted to live peacefully as a normal woman, with a mundane routine like vegetable farming, raising chickens, and eating their eggs every morning.

She told him she once wished to have a small family and grow old together.

Yes, this legendary witch dreamed of a life where she crochets her own socks and hears the sound of her husband splitting wood in the backyard.

The life she read about in a book.

As they say, life is unfair. Not only was he unable to give her that life, it was impossible for herself to live that life. After all, she was the type who would jump into danger headfirst, like when she slit her own throat to curse the time.

And for that, Burn was grateful. He was grateful she wasn't what she wanted to be—but herself. After all, if she were a normal person and able to achieve that kind of life herself, he wouldn't have the chance to be with her.

It sucks, but that thought calmed him down. The witch had bound herself to him, and life is as unfair as it should be.

So this trip could be his little gift for her. A little glimpse of a normal life she once told him, where she could be a humble madam of a humble house, and…

“Caliburn, look!”

Morgan did a little spin. Her hair color transformed as she moved, to be a paler shade, and finally, white. It was the same shade of white as his hair color—

Burn lost his breath. He lost his mind and his own sense of purpose for a split second.

Ahh, should he just abandon everything and give her that life?

As expected, the angel’s temptation was just too strong.

“Absolutely not,” Burn came to his senses. “Change back. White suits you too much; you'll be mistaken for the Holy Ghost.”

Morgan flinched. “E-eh? But I thought it’s fine…”

“What's fine? This is not fine. Don’t you see Lord Wilderwood kneel on the ground there?” Burn asked, and yes, Finn was on bent knees, wondering if his time had come.

The damage was too massive.

“Okay, I’ll change…” Morgan changed her hair to brown.

Burn frowned. “This is too classic and innocently erotic. No.”

“Eh?! W-what about this?” Morgan changed to black hair.

“This is worse. This is just blatantly erotic. No.”

Morgan slowly changed again. “B-but, what’s left is red hair—”

“Ugh—” with how bright red her hair was now, Burn felt like he was assaulted by a strong visual attack, “What are you, the goddess of war?”

Now he understood why she was born blonde. It was arguably God’s mercy for men. The golden color on her gave her that soft divine touch, making her look unapproachable and easily giving men a reality check.

Burn’s blonde was flashy, yes. But no matter what hair color she changed into, her flashy appearance was on another level. If he let her change back to blonde, it would just be the same as allowing a literal angel to walk the streets.

She really wasn’t fit for any kind of undercover work…

Well, it wasn’t like she must go undercover this time. If she could be her usual self, what's the harm in letting the angel walk the streets? What's a little commotion, anyway? It's nothing.

“Ha… fine. Your presence will be immortalized in everyone’s mind no matter what you do, anyway. Choose any hair color you like,” Burn sighed.

Morgan raised her face, seemingly excited. “Then white—”

“Except that.”

After what happened at the welcome party, Burn threw in the towel on forcing face coverings or other disguises on her. Like that would help – just imagine the extra side-eye she'd attract. Plus, it's not like he was keen on adding to her troubles. The last thing he needed was her bending over backward for everyone. 

If he couldn't deliver her dream life on a silver platter, well, at least he could manage this bit. Whatever mess came their way, he'd be the cleanup crew.

“Now, should we practice how to call each other?” Morgan suddenly reminded them.

Burn and Yvain raised their eyebrows.

She turned to Yvain and said, “Now, Evan, call us Papa and Mama.”

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